


Long Awaited Relief

by Pnanda92



Category: Actor RPF, X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, Sexual Tension, Sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-27
Updated: 2011-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pnanda92/pseuds/Pnanda92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael has had some feelings towards his co-star for a while, but when a situation is presented to him, will he fall into the temptation of James' body under his own?<br/>Sexy times lay ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Awaited Relief

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to those who read this; not very good at writing fan fiction, let alone RPF. Just a little warning.

The party opened its doors at 9:30pm. Invited family and friends arrived before and after the start time, beginning small talk with friends and others, placing presents on a medium sized table near the door and began to drink to begin the party mood. By 10:30, people were half way towards gaining the perfect hangover the next morning.

The large hired out party room, on the second floor in the apartment building, housed just over 200 people. Background music enchanted the tall spotlights as the bass charmed the multicoloured lights to change the mood within seconds, calling countless bodies onto the dance floor and mingle.

Already downing more than a few scotches, and now starting on his third bottle of beer, an Irishman turned on his heel, reacting to “Hey Fassbender!” being called from behind him. He smiled at the friends he instantly recognised and began to chat with them, smiling softly.

Looking down at his dark red Converses every now and then, he laughed from the jokes, agreed with and added in his opinions with certain topics of conversation, and just chatted about anything that lead from the previous topic, finding it easy to mingle as he enjoyed himself.

His clear green eyes darted around the room, looking for the main attraction, but only found women smiling innocently and staring his body. He would wink or lower his head a little if he made eye contact with them, watching them giggle for a moment before returning to the conversation.  
Dressed with a leather jacket hugging his sides, a white top with grey flames appearing just over his ribs and dark blue jeans, he thanked his inner fashion assistant as he received a few compliments on how he dressed for the party.

Swallowing a mouthful of beer, he began to notice that people were becoming more drunk by the second, making him laugh mentally every time he watched a drunk guy try and hit on a not so drunk girl and get rejected.

Sure, Michael had a few, but hell, he knew how to drink. He also knew how to hold his liquor better than those guys. But maybe that was because of his genetics.  
“You getting hammered tonight Fassbender?” One of his friends asked him, winking over to a group of girls who just laughed at him.

“Will see how the night progresses out.” Michael answered, finishing off his beer as waved over to the bartender for another, listening to the music change.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Called a strong voice from behind Michael and the rest of the guests; heads turning towards the familiar accent.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Murmured Michael, suppressing a laugh as he smirked deviously over at the drunken, too happy Scotsman standing proudly on a table.

“Of course ye all know why you’re here, so I'm just gonna say it now because my liver fails on me; thanks for coming, supporting me through 32 years and have a good night!”

“Get down you drunk fool!” Someone called out, getting a laugh from all.

“I thought Scots were supposed to hold their alcohol well?” Someone else joked aloud.

“Aye, they are. But what Scot doesn’t want to get drunk on a momentous occasion such as this one?” James answered running a hand through his hair, collecting his brown locks and smiled that infectious smile that brightened the room.

“Happy Birthday McAvoy.” Michael toasted, raising his beer towards his friend; the mass of family, friends and peers following suit and cheering.

James nodded towards Michael and swallowed the rest of his Guinness, his grey V neck top lifting up to show off his delicious hips and hollered triumphantly as he jumped down off the table.

With a lipstick kiss on his cheek and a feather boa wrapped around his waist, half acting like a belt for his jeans, the birthday boy mingled within the crowd, receiving congratulations and drinks.

The night pressed on; the music began to sound dull until it hit that part of the night where the 80’s pop classics began to entice people to remember their childhoods, the lights changed from club disco to easy going flashes, people danced wherever they could, conversing and laughing with the occasional past out drunk here and there.

He could feel the warm buzz of the alcohol flowing through his veins. Smiling, Michael excused himself from the crowds, grabbing a tumbler of bourbon from the bar and headed on over to the purple leather horse shoe shaped couch currently being unoccupied and slid into the middle and took a mouthful of the dark auburn liquid. Placing his arms along the top of the couch, he watched the party play out, swirling his drink around every so often and closed his eyes as he let his head fall back against the cool leather.

“Fassy! What are you doing here all by your lonesome?” Exclaimed James, not surprising Michael at all as he scooted on over to join him, waving at the bartender for some drinks.

“Taking a breather.”

“You sound old.” James joked, slapping the older man’s shoulder as some party guests joined them on the couch, the bartender following them with a platter of colorful shot glasses.

“Not too far gone for some shots, aye?” James winked, watching his friend finish off the bourbon within two mouthfuls.

“It’s going to take more platters of shots to get me wasted.” Michael laughed.

“Double shots then.”

“You’re going to die of alcohol poisoning if you don’t slow down.” Michael said, half sarcastic, half serious as he took the shots from James’ hand, their fingers just touching.

“A worthy death for my people.” James smiled, raising his shot glass and swallowed it like it was water, shotting the second straight after.

The rest, including Michael, followed James. The two laughed as they heard a few hisses and curses from the burn of straight vodka.

“McAvoy! There you are!”A man whom Michael was talking to before came up, waving his fingers for the Scot to come towards him, “Your birthday present has arrived.”  
Wiggling his eyebrows, James scooted over near the end of the seat, looking around.

“Meet Holly.” The man introduced, his finger wiggling, calling over a tall blonde wearing a revealing red dress, showing off her curves and assets.

Wolf whistles echoes around the room as a crowd began to chant and watch the stripper swing her hips over to James, slowly extending a leg over his lap, her bodacious booty settling down as James’ hand naturally rested on her hips, fingertips pressing into the dress material.

“You are a king amongst men.” James said to his friend, their hands slapping together in an appreciative hi-5 before is attention fell back the gyrating hips over his own.

James’ eyes focused on the woman’s hand as it came between her breasts, grasping onto the zipper and pulled it down, exposing her semi tanned skin and black lacy underwear. He breathed out slow, smiling like a 4 year old at Christmas as she turned around and stepped onto the table in front of his, dancing for him, running her hands over her body like they were his.

Michael watched, like every other male in the room, as she weaved her spell over the Glaswegian. He felt his pulse quicken, his chest tighten, his hand grow tight over his knee; not because of the effect she had on him, but for the fact that James’ eyes were lusting over her body.  
Sure, he harbored feelings for his co-star but he didn’t let them show; he tried to be professional about it, and they were only small. But seeing the blonde grinding and pleasing James only made him envious of her; he wanted to make James lick his lips, bite on them when he wanted more, and other things that only made Michael lust over.

He couldn’t watch anymore. Standing up, grabbing one of the few lasts shots on the table and downing it, he excused himself, side stepping past the sitting guests and made his way through the crowd of men and women, walking towards the balcony for some fresh air.

James’ attention fell from the stripper for a moment, watching Michael slip through the crowd until a warm silky hand pulled his head back, whispering “Happy Birthday” into his ear and kissed him, making him forget his concern for the taller man.

\--

The party carried on into the early hours of morning, hitting 2am when it began to die down and people began to leave for their early shift at work or recover a little before the hangover set in. People said their goodbyes to James as he thanked each guest that came.

“Who’s taking him home?” A guy asked to the group that Michael was chatting with, the guy pointing over to James who was trying to talk up some girls, explaining something about motorbikes and Vespa’s.

“I’ll draw the short straw.” Opted Michael, scratching the back of his head as he walked over to his friend and placed an arm around the slightly shorter male.

“OK Casanova, I think the ladies would like to head on home now.”

One of the ladies mouthed ‘thank you’ to him as they walked off. Michael laughed on the inside, finding James’ drunkenness quite humorous. Every time he had witnessed James drunk, or tipsy, there were many wonderful memories.

Leaving the party room, praying that the cleaners were prepared for a time consuming clean up, they took the elevator down. As they stepped out, the whole night hit Michael hard, feeling lightheaded for a moment, like he was drunk himself. He blamed it on the elevator and shook it off.  
He was just about to whistle for a taxi when a water droplet fell from above, hitting his cheek, and within seconds of that single droplet, the heavens opened up, sending down litres of watery bullets onto the earth.

“Great…” Michael groaned, looking up at the sky accusingly and whistled for a taxi, walking out into the rain foolishly.

“Isn’t this great?” James yelled with a smile on his face. He loved the rain as he welcomed it, opening his mouth to catch the rain.

Michael rolled his eyes at the Scot, turning around to call for him as the taxi pulled up but stopped for a moment; his grey t-shirt stuck to James’ body, showing off his slender figure and the outline of his hips and abdomen.

“Taxi’s here.” Michael called, pulling himself out from his stare.

James nodded, ripping off his feather belt, and jogged past him, climbing into the taxi.

Michael quirked an eyebrow, wondering how in hell can he run soberly when drunk, and followed him, jumping into the back seat with James and told the taxi driver James’ address of his house as they drove off.

“Christ that come down fast!” Exclaimed James, running a hand through his hair, trying to rid his hair of water which dripped onto his jeans.

Michael hummed, agreeing with the statement, feeling the backseat warm up from the heater as he stared out the window, completely lost in his own world.

A hand on his knee made him return into the cab, looking down at the long fingers curling around his knee cap, heating his cold jeans. The hand patted his knee and he turned his head to his right, looking at his friend.

“Thank you for helping to organize tonight man. I really appreciate it.” James said, his voice truthful, not a slur to be heard.

“No worries.” Michael answered, a slight laugh in his voice.

His breathe caught in his throat as he felt wet hair touch his neck, before James’ head fell upon his shoulder.

Looking down while clearing his throat, his heart hammering into his ribs, he told himself to calm down. He kept repeating in his head that James was drunk, that he wasn’t thinking very clearly at the moment, that he shouldn’t just tackle his friend, pin him down and just ravish that body right there.

They talked and laughed as they reminisced about certain memories and just joked about other crap through the whole ride, James’ hand never leaving Michael's knee.

Feeling like they had just left the party, the taxi pulled up in front of James’ house, the 45 minute ride only feeling like a few seconds.

“Do you two want an umbrella?” The taxi driver asked, fixing up the machine which flashed $56.32 in bright green numbers.

“Nah, we’ll be alright. Thanks.” Michael passed $60 over to him, telling him to keep the change as the two climbed out and sprinted for the shelter of the porch.  
Michael regretted paying the cab driver, kicking himself as he didn’t have any means of getting home. He didn’t drive to James’ party, he had caught a lift with two other people who helped organize it with him.

 _Stupid..._

He sighed, pinching his temples, shoving his other hand down into a pocket and watched as James, trying to find his house keys. The prominent key bulge in his right pocket attracted his eyes.

“Right pocket.” Michael said quickly, looking away just as quick.

“Right you are.” James smiled, digging his hand in and grabbed them out, unlocking the door as both rushed in, welcoming the warmth of the house.

James jogged over to his log fire, setting it alight with a lighter he kept near it. Michael watched from the door as the fire awoke, feeling the warmth flood the house within seconds.

James threw the lighter towards the couch and smiled, proud of himself.

“Can I use your phone?” Michael asked, pointing to it with his thumb.

“Of course. My house is yours.”

The Irishman walked over to the wall and typed in the number he somehow knew; probably from watching too much late night TV with all those random advertisements with the catchy tunes.

“Hey, can I order a taxi for –” Michael stopped as a hand ripped the phone from his own, hanging up on the nice lady on the other end.

“Why are you ordering a taxi for?” James asked, half puffed and confused.

Michael was about as confused as James was, “Uhh, to go home?”

“And people were calling me stupid tonight, well, today now…” James stopped, trying to figure what part of the day it was now, let alone the time, but discarded the thought, “Just stay here and save your money.”

Michael laughed, thinking that James was joking, which clearly he wasn’t as he leaned against the wall, waiting for the older man’s answer.

“Oh, no I couldn’t…”

“My house is yours,” James repeated, folding his arms over his chest, “don’t argue with a drunken birthday boy, let alone a drunken Scottish birthday boy.”

Opening his mouth to humbly refuse, James cut in, “Do it.” James cheekily grinned as he pointed over to the couch, telling his friend silently to move away from the phone and the door and go towards the couch.

Giving in, Michael smiled and obeyed; too tired and cold to fight anymore, a few butterflies fluttered around in his stomach.

“G’night Fassbender.” James said, walking past the couch.

“Night.” Michael replied, catching James’ eyes and watched as his friend struggled up the stairs, tripping a few times and disappeared around the corner.

Sighing out loud, Michael kicked off his Converses and placed them in front of the fire, hoping they would be dry by the time he woke up. He shouldered off his jacket and top, using his top to try and soak up the loose droplets running down his chest, drying his hair a little, and laid them next to his shoes, while prying off his soaking socks and ripped his belt off. Slowly pulling his jeans off from his hips, Michael threw them onto the small table, letting them drip onto the carpet. They would dry there he thought.

He fell onto the couch, his feet hanging off the end and sighed, letting the heat from the log fire warm his skin, feeling the scar on his leg ache a little. He looked up, spying a small blanket draped over the back of the couch and pulled it down over his legs, finding the woolly blanket a bit itchy but warm.  
Laying his head on the arm rest, Michael relaxed into the temporary bed. Movement upstairs caught his attention, but he soon forgot about it, closing his eyes to let sleep claim his body.

Michael chuckled to himself, suddenly thinking about how severe James’ hangover would be. God, he had to work himself out. He really had to push aside these feelings until the time was right. He really had to stop thinking about James pulling off his top, he had to stop imaging his hands undoing his belt, and he definitely had to stop wondering what his lips would feel like upon James…

“I sound like a school girl…” Mumbled the man, face palming before snuggling down into the couch, placing his hands on his lower abdomen and turned his head towards the fire, sleep creeping up fast until the warm colors of red and orange turned to black.

\--

Dull warm pressure awoke Michael from his doze. Keeping his eyes closed, he leaned into the soft touch, wanting more of its warmth and hummed low. Wanting to know what was massaging his thumping skull, he opened his eyes, focusing in on a long arm that led up to-

“Jesus James…” Michael breathed, body going stiff as he jumped a little, his back hitting the back of the couch, giving the man a confused look.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Answered James, adjusting his pajama pants as he stood up, walking around to stand near the fire.

Michael looked upon his figure for a moment; the fire projecting small shadowing lines over his pectorals and hips, outlining the small definitions of his abdominals, the colours from the flames highlighting his blue eyes while making his skin look delectable.

“So, uh…” Michael started, dragging his eyes away from James’ chest to his face, trying to form words together in his confused state of mind and sat upright, keeping the blanket over his legs.

“I just remembered something,” James started, slowly walking forwards towards the couch, side stepping the coffee table as his shins bumped against Michael’s knees.

Michael looked up, noticing James’ smirk and played along, asking, “Oh really? And what would that be?”

“You didn’t get me a present. That’s not very nice.”

Michael caught on fast, detecting the slight hints James was giving off with his body and voice. He brought his hands up between their bodies, stopping the advancing male.

“James…you’re still a tad drunk.”

“So are you.” James threw back.

Well he had him there.

James grabbed the messy haired man’s hands and closed his hands around them. Bitting his lip softly, he climbed onto his friend’s lap, placing the hands on his slender hips.

“I decided a few seconds ago, well actually while you were sleeping, that you were going to be my present to myself, if that makes any sense…”

Closing his eyes, Michael breathed out slow, tensing up as he felt a warm finger brush a lock of his hair from his face. The fingers threaded through his hair once again and Michael could feel those blue eyes staring at his face.

“James…” Michael started only to be hushed with a finger pressed over his lips.

Both men watched as James dragged his finger over Michael’s lips, feeling how soft they were, noticing a little scar he had. James watched as the lips parted a little, pressing against his skin.

Removing his fingers, both breathing deep, James leaned in, his lips just hovering over his friend’s; their noses brushing with the others as the Scot leaned in a bit more. Michael let his head to aside, waiting for that moment when their lips touched for the first time, but within a second, he realized what he was about to do and withdrew before any connection was made.

His head hitting the back of the couch, the grip on James’ hips loosened as he moved them to broad shoulders, pushing James off softly.

He stood up, walking towards the large bookshelf, creating a large gap between their bodies and leaned against the cool bookshelf.

“As much as it,” he stopped, trying to find the right word, “pleasures me to do…whatever that was going to lead to, with you… I can’t.” Michael ran a hand through his hair, still a little wet and walked away from the bookshelf, needing something study to lean on.

James stood up, worried as to where his co-star was going to go, but was relieved when he moved next to the bookshelf, resting against the wall, trying to process everything.

“You’re still heavily intoxicated, and I use heavily quite lightly. You’re not thinking straight, neither am I. I just don’t think-”

“Then don’t think. Easy.” James interjected, smirking as he sauntered over towards Michael, closing the gap.

“Just wait.” Michael insisted, his mind still trying to deny the present events occurring, throwing his hands in between them again.

“Don’t tell me to wait.” James snapped softly. “I have been waiting for a while now. And I’ve made up my mind. Are you going to deny the birthday boy of his present?”

Stopping in front of the taller man, James could read Michael’s face so easily; the internal battle to resist or indulge in the temptation presented in front of him.  
Dropping his head, quickly looking at their feet before closing his eyes, focusing on his breathing, Michael asked delicately, “You really want this?”

James’ lips tickled Michael’s neck, feeling the skin tense up as he whispered against it, “You have no idea.”

Suddenly, James’ world was blurred in a circular motion, his back hitting the wall hard, finding it still warm from the previous body that was warming it. A smile emerged from his puzzled expression as he looked up to the man now in front of him, invading his space.

“Good.” Michael answered, his voice deep with his accent strong.

He brought his hand up, threading his fingers in wavy brown hair as the back of the Scots head and connected their lips.

The kiss was soft, just like James’ lips, something he had envisioned countless times. Feeling James press into the kiss, he hummed softly as the shorter man’s arms wrapped around his neck, bringing their faces closer. With both men wanting more, Michael decided to take it to the next level. He nipped playfully on James’ bottom lip, playing with the skin.

The brisk flare of pain from sharp teeth made James gasp a little, shoving his head back from instinct, but his mouth was instantly connected back to Michael’s, moaning as he felt his lips part, letting his tongue eagerly play with the others.

God, Michael’s head was swimming; he could taste everything: Alcohol, cake, sugar, James. He could smell James; rain, cologne, he even smelled sweet. James just flooded his system.

Deeping the kiss with a small turn of his head, James welcomed the closeness of their bodies, moaning again, not being able to control the noises as Michael’s knee divided his legs and stepped in close, pressing his knee up, rubbing against his growing erection.

 _Yes..._

James pulled away, catching his breath, “God…”

“Yeah.” Michael answered, finding that that was the only word coming to mind at this moment of time.

Both men breathless from the intensity, Michael watched James swallow hard, still tasting the taller man within his mouth. Green eyes watched his Adams Apple bob, wishing so hard to just lick and suck on it until he brought his eyes up, gazing upon James’ lips as his wet muscle licked over his bottom lip, finding the little intent where he had nipped him previously.

“My room, now. No interjections.” James commanded an eager smile on his lips.

Not arguing this time, Michael felt a warm hand wrap around his wrist and dragged him up the stairs, practically pushing him into the largish bedroom.

Closing the door with a kick of his foot, they both laughed when James tripped a little on the rug under him, Michael reaching out to catch him just in case. Thankfully the Scot saved himself, making it out as a planned accident and walked up to Michael, who walked backwards, playing with James.

Pulling a shocked expressed, James just quirked an eyebrow and gave the taller man a push, causing him to fall onto the bed.

He intensively watched Michael turn around and push himself up to the top of the bed, the cold metal frame hitting his back making him hiss; something that James wanted to make him do.

James crawled onto the bed from the side, over those long legs and straddled his hips again, knowing that Michael wouldn’t push him off this time, and instigated the kiss. His hands felt over Michael’s chest, feeling the smooth skin under his own.

Parting Michael’s lips, he deepened the kiss while his hands moved lower, feeling the tight skin over his abdomen, tracing the bumps of his abdominals.

 _God, he tastes so good…_  
His hands traced up over Michael’s ribs, and cupped his hands over his neck, feeling his pulse grow faster by the moment under his palm.

Michael moaned into the kiss, wanting so much from James’ mouth. He dropped his hands, which had found their way into James’ hair, down to his hips, bringing the Scotsman closer to his body; their erections rubbing against the others.

Grinding his hips down, gyrating against the opposite heat radiating erection, James gasped, breaking the kiss, as the friction between their pelvises increased.  
Ducking into the deliciously tempting neck junction, Michael attached hip lips on the soft pale skin, biting and sucking over the skin, marking the Scot as his own, loving the feeling of his pulse under his lips.

“Michael…” James moaned, feeling a hand slip underneath his pajama waistband and wrap his fingers around the now hard length, slowly stroking it. James cursed under his breath, making Michael hum happily against his skin.

Wanting to touch him just as badly, James turned his head in towards his co-star’s, playfully biting at his lips until he took them in his own, already feeling the throb of the bruises on his neck. A hand left his shoulder while a finger dragged down the muscular chest slowly.

Michael broke the kiss and dropped his head down, watching the finger slide down his torso slowly until it stopped just above his own waistband. He looked up, raising an eyebrow over to James. Slowly, the hand slipped under the waistband, and wrapped his own finder around Michael’s erection.

“God…” Michael gasped, his breath hitching, biting on his bottom lip as the hand began to move up and down, his head fall back against the wall.

They both began to pump their hands, squeezing and teasing the other, making the other moan or utter a noise that made them harder than before.

“You’re a tease…you know that?” Muttered Michael, panting and arching his back up as James teased him, running a finger up the shaft, pressing his thumb into the head and anything else he could do to get that reaction again.

“Yep.” James answered, smiling as he pressed his lips onto Michael’s Adams Apple, nipping at it, causing Michael to swallow involuntarily. He continued to kiss over his neck, marking him just under his chin, where everyone could see.

Growing lonely on James’ hip, the other hand began to move around to James’ back, feeling the hip grooves lead his hand down below the waistband. The warm hand cupped a firm cheek, squeezing it gently. James responded with a little laugh but didn’t object.

Lifting his head from the wall, Michael’s hand groped James, his fingers beginning to slide between the two cheeks, running over his opening.

James tensed up, stopping everything and gave out a shallow breathe, resting his chin on Michael’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Michael said, quickly removing his head.

“Don’t.” James called out, his voice hoarse. James lifted his head off the broad shoulder and kissed Michael roughly, “I want you to.”

Pulling away, Michael looked into James’ eyes, reading them to see if he was lying, to see if he was too scared to say no. But he didn’t find those answers, he just found trust.

“You sure? It’ll hurt, and that’s only the fingers.” Michael explained, wanting James to fully understand what was going to happen.

“I I think I can handle all of you Fassbender.” James teased; his accent strong as he gave him a little squeeze before removing his hand.

Nodding, the long hand slipped back under his pyjamas and felt the never touched area, slowly pressing his index finger in through the ring of muscle.

“Fuck.’ James cursed through gritted teeth, feeling his body flare up in pain as he could feel his body react and try and force the digit out, placing his hands on Michael’s shoulder to grip onto.

“Breath and relax.” Michael cooed into his ear, his free hand running over the side of his back, trying to calm him a little.

He pushed further in, feeling warmth and muscle engulf his finger, his insides spasm a little around his finger. He began to pull out, just enough so he could push another him back in, not wanting James’ body to tense up again if he pulled all the way out. Again, he pushed his finger inside James, feeling the man tense and grip hard onto his shoulders, blunt fingernails threatening to break the skin.

“Relax.”

James’ body began to shake from the intruders, “You try and,” he swallowed a cry, “relax when you have two fingers shoved up your ass.”

Michael could only smile to the remark, continuing to press up inside him, now beginning to spread his fingers out, stretching the virgin muscle, slowly of course, not wanting to distress James any more.

“Oh, Christ…” James pressed his forehead against Michael’s shoulder, gasping from the pain, not wanting to show the tear that rolled down his cheek. It felt like his was being ripped apart from the inside out, like his muscles were tearing while his nerves were being tortured.

Still working inside James, Michael could feel the muscle begin to adapt and relax with time; he worked the walls slowly, scissoring his fingers.

“Can I add another?” Michael asked softly into his ear.

“Another? Three?” James asked fast, his voice weak and unsure.

“I can assure you, there will be less pain later.” Michael promised.

James nodded reluctantly, holding his breath as he felt the fingers pull out, then a cold finger slip in, no force stopping it this time. Exhaling, the Scot felt little pain as the fingers stretched him, digging deeper inside him, filling him.

A finger touched against something inside him, making him arch into the feeling, moaning loud as he rocked back on the fingers, wanting that feeling again.  
Noticing the reaction, Michael knew it was time for the real deal. Retracting his fingers, hearing a whimper from James, he tapped the slender hips.

“Kneel up.” Michael instructed.

His thighs felt cold from the loss of contact and heat, but James did as he was told, kneeling up and scooted forward, pushing his pajama pants, awkwardly ripping him down each leg and threw them across the room. Michael did the same; he lifted his hips, pushing his jocks down over his legs and threw them in the same direction, freeing his erection. He leaned over to James’ side draw, knowing that there would be some condoms in there but James stopped him.

“No condom. Just…you.”

“It’ll hurt more.”

He breathed out, knowing Michael was right, but shook his head, “Just you.”

“You’re crazy.” Michael smiled, shutting the draw and placing his hands back on the warm, slightly shaky hips.

Extending a shaky hand, James gripped hold of Michael’s manhood and placed it behind him, slowly lowering himself until he felt the pre-cum between his cheeks.  
He closed his eyes and breathed out, lowered his body slowly down, pulling on another cheek to open himself up a bit better and held back a groan as the head slipped into his body, stretching him again.

And oh yes, it did hurt. But not as much as he thought it would.

Keeping it slow, which was working for him, he edged Michael further and further inside of him, pushing him inside. He could feel himself pulsate and stretch around his length as well as Michael pulsating inside of him. Within a few minutes, and a few pretty words here and there, James was sitting on Michael’s lap again, the Irishman fully inside him.

Both were panting, none more so than James as he tried to wrap his head around that his friend, his co-star; he was within him.

Massaging his hips with his thumbs, Michael comforted James, “You’re a natural at this.”

“Shut up.” James shot back, a small laugh following, tensing a little.

“Are you ok? Not too much pain?” Michael asked concerned.

Keeping his head looking down, eyes closed, he replied with a shaky breath and a, “Could be worse…”

Michael tipped his head up by the chin, kissing his lips and murmured, “It all gets better from here.”

Waiting a few minutes, getting adjusted and ready for what was next, James lifted up via his thighs, letting Michael slowly drag out from inside of his body. Nerves flared up again, feeling the friction between skin and muscle within him, but he pressed on, using Michael’s shoulder to help him lift up. He bit down on his tongue when he could feel the head at his entrance, wanting to groan but held it back, beginning to impale himself back down, getting his body used to the pattern.

“Don’t hold back those noises, I want to hear them.” Michael requested innocently, knowing it would play with James.

He did this for a while, slowly picking up speed while he tested himself. He could begin to feel his body respond to Michael inside him; he could feel his body want to be filled again every time the hot length left his body. He body keened to feel him inside and shook in anticipation when Michael’s erection rubbed against his walls as he left.

Going a little faster, James could hear Michael start to pant, trying to withhold himself.

“Are you going to make me do… all of… the work?” Panted James, a weak smile on his lips.

“Was just waiting until you were ready.” He answered.

Gripping a little harder onto James’ hips, he began to lead the slightly confident man up and down his length, lifting his hips up to meet with James’s.  
“Go faster.” James asked, gasping a little as the speed of Michael’s hips quickened, the force of each thrust into his body exciting new nerves, loving the friction building up inside.

Michael began to take control now, raising James’ hips only to pull them back down hard, pushing further and further in, the pace growing fast and hard.  
Pants, moans, gasps, pleads of more and names; they all echoed out in the room as their movements synced.

Finding the will to keep control was a losing battle; Michael’s hips began to snap up hard automatically, making James smile at the man’s desire. The younger male ground his hips down as he felt Michael push inside him, making him moan low out loud. James began to kiss his lover’s neck, kissing and sucking over the abused skin, biting down a little too hard on his neck junction, causing a hot sensation to spread over Michaels’ body. The sensation caused Michael’s hip to jerk and thrust up hard and deep in James, hitting his sweet spot deep within.

James cried out, his body arching as Michael’s throbbing member kept on hitting and teasing his prostate. Waves of pleasure rocked James’ body; god he wanted more, he wanted more of that feeling.

“More… keep, uh, doing…that.” James panted, pressing down on every thrust.

Michael wrapped his hand around James’ leaking erection, thrusting up and hitting his prostate with every pump, sending the Scotsman into a whole new world of pleasure. James couldn’t even form words, not even Michael’s, it just came out as “Mi…Mi…oh fu-, Mi…”

Wanting James to feel the full of this moment, he stopping his hand ministrations over James, a whine coming from the man’s throat and wrapped his arms around his back, flipping them, surprising James.

The dominant Irishman placed James on the bed, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow and smiled. Confused, James watched as Michael’s hand grabbed his leg, kissing the knee and lifted it up, hooking it over his shoulder.

James propped himself up on his forearms, but before even asking what the hell Michael was doing, Michael leaned down, catching James’ lips under his own before thrusting hard up inside him, going further due to the new position, finding it easier to hit that one spot that sent James speechless.

“Oh! God!” James fell back onto the bed, moaning like a whore, something that Michael would remember for quite a while. His hand went back to James’s erection, pumping fast with each thrust as James pulled him down, with their bodies now close as he gripped onto his shoulder, tearing the skin a little.

His prostate, now exploited and sensitive, sent shivers of pleasure up his body; he could feel his orgasm was going to hit at any moment, but James just wanted to hold out just a little longer, but with Michael thrusting up, hitting again and again, while his hand worked wonders around him and his mouth teasing his skin, how much longer was the real question.

Michael groaning, his hips snapping hard, his length pulsating up inside him, sent James over the edge. He arched his back up, crying out as he came hard over Michael’s hand, painting their stomachs. He moaned through the waves, his body shaking from the sudden force of his orgasm.

His inner wall clamped tight around Michael, the resistance becoming intense. Michael wasn’t too far off as well; his lower back began to tingle, the tight hot knot within his gut was threatening to unravel and explode, his hips more erratic with each thrust.

“James…” Michael warned, burying his face in James’ neck, panting and groaning hard.

Thrusting his hips up to meet Michael’s, he wrapped a hand in the back of the partially wet light brown waves, gasping as his prostate kept sending electrical currents through his body.

With a groan low enough to be thought it was an animal, Michael thrust inside hard before coming inside him, covering James’ insides. His orgasm rocked his body, thrusting once more inside James, his body shaking from the intensity. Michael let his body rest on top of James’, even though he wasn’t that heavy; their bodies wet and hot, they panted against the others neck.

After a moment Michael lifted himself up withdrew himself from James, a small gasp leaving the Scotsman’s lips as he did, and fell to the side of James.  
James could feel his insides twitch involuntarily, the orgasm still taking its toll on his body. The after-glow felt amazing; he wanted to feel like this every time. And yes, there was going to be more of this happening James decided.

He looked over to his friend on his right, turning on his side, watching a large hand plaster itself over that face he could kind of watch for an extended amount of time

Already knowing what was running through his friend’s head, he tore the hand from Michael’s face and, cupping his strong jaw, forced his lips upon Michael’s. Their tongues danced, both moaning into the kiss before James pulled away, running a thumb over the slightly swollen bottom lip before sliding it over a little bite mark he had left on his jaw.

“Don’t start regretting this. No regrets are permitted on my birthday.” James joked.

Michael looked over to an alarm, and turned back towards James, “Not your birthday anymore.”

“Well…” James stopped to think but had nothing to come back with.

“Good way to end your birthday.” Michael commented, a lazy smile on his lips.

“I want this present for every birthday.” James playfully ordered.

“Yes sir.” Michael saluted sluggishly, feeling quite tired, “but right now, I think we both need sleep.”

Humming in agreement, James watched as Michael opened an arm, inviting him in as they both crept under the covers. James’ head fell on top of Michael’s chest like it was a read pillow, and felt the large warm hand wrap around his shoulder, his thumb rubbing small circles into his skin. Blanket covered their lower halves as they relaxed into each other; the sound of Michael’s racing heart beat kind of lulled James to sleep, Michael not too far behind him.

\--

Waking up to a bright stream of light coming from a crack between the vertical blinds upon his face, Michael stirred, trying to find a spot where there was no light but gave up and opened his eyes, holding up a hand in front of his eyes to block it and stretched a little. He looked over to his side, expecting to find a dead weight body next to him but only found an impression of where James should have been.

Propping himself up on his forearms, wincing from the pain from his shoulders and hips, he looked around the room, noticing a pair of dark blue PJ pants hanging from the top of the railing where the vertical blinds hung, finding the reason why he was woken up due to unwanted sunlight.  
Something fell from the en suite bathroom, with some following grunts and curses of a man trying to catch whatever was falling, and failing. The sound of plastic and toothbrushes echoed out.

Michael was about to call out to see if he needed any help but was stopped.

“Christ Fassy, my fuckin’ arse hurts.”

He grinned, running a hand through his hair and fell backwards, content as he watched a limping McAvoy, light blue pajama pants on, walk from the bathroom, painted with bruises on his neck, shoulder and hips. And he had beautiful sex hair.

“Good morning.” Michael said, quickly looking over to the alarm to check if it was indeed still morning.

James rolled his eyes, limping towards his side of the bed and fell stomach first onto the mattress, “Good? It may be for you, but for me, my morning is far from good.” He rolled onto his back, wincing from the intense pain ricocheting up his back and counted on each finger what was wrong with his morning.

“I have a lovely hangover,” one finger, “back pain, shoulder pain, neck pain,” three more fingers, “arse pain; didn’t even know I could get that until now,” his pinkie finger. He held his open hand towards the man next to him, “That is a whole hand full of pain.”

He turned his head to face Michael’s, winking as he exhaled, looking up at the ceiling, eying his pajama pants hanging off the blinds.

“Everything about this morning is grand; you know I’m right.” Michael teased, rolling onto his side and kissed the planes of James’ chest.

“You’re an incubus, you know that?” James moaned out, threading his fingers through the wavy locks and pulled him up.

“Your incubus.” Michael corrected and laughed, before kissing him softly on the lips, pulling James’ body under his own. He slid one hands over James’ side down to his hip, while the other cupped his jaw, turning the Scot’s head to aside to deepen the kiss.

 _Yeah, James thought, definitely a grand old morning…oh god…em >_


End file.
